


incandescent

by jaqhad (kyrilu)



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Rise of Kylo Ren (Comics)
Genre: Character Study, First Love, Force Bond (Star Wars), Hair Braiding, M/M, MayThe4th Treat, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:08:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23961265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyrilu/pseuds/jaqhad
Summary: When Ben is fifteen standard years old, he falls in love for the first time.
Relationships: Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/Tai
Comments: 15
Kudos: 17
Collections: May the 4th Be With You Star Wars Fanworks Exchange 2020





	incandescent

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lucymonster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucymonster/gifts).



His mother teaches him how to braid hair in the Alderaanian fashion, guiding his hands to her head. Fumbling child fingers figure out how to tuck and twine, and when he’s finished, she returns the favor to his own dark locks. “It’s important to us, our hair,” she tells him in front of the mirror. “Where I grew up, Ben, there’s this belief that you don’t let anyone touch your hair unless they’re someone very close to you.” 

“Like you, Mom?” 

“Like me,” she says, smiling. “Me and your dad--”

“And Elsie?” His nanny droid is busy in the living room, cleaning up after his toys. 

“And Elsie.”

“And Uncle Luke and Uncle Chewie and Uncle Lando and Aunt Evaan and Aunt Sana and--”

His mom laughs, interrupting him mid-stream. “There’s a galaxy of people who care about you, Ben. Not just now, but later, too, and when you’re big, you’ll meet them. You’ll know -- you’ll feel it -- because there are some people who you can trust with your entire heart. This isn’t only about your hair, but about making new friends and new family, and _knowing_.” 

When Ben is fifteen standard years old, he falls in love for the first time, except the funny thing is, he’s in love with a boy who has no hair.

Tai was raised in a branch of the Church of the Force, growing up on stories of monks and miracles. They’re a cloistered bunch -- Master Luke and Lor San Tekka talk in murmured whispers, something about the sect being an offshoot of Benthic’s Partisans, whatever that means -- but eventually, Luke comes back with a boy with blue eyes and a shy smile.

He’s uncertain at first, hesitant; and Ben wonders if he’s a boring bookworm like Hennix. But then Ben makes Tai laugh after he tells him about a race that his father flew in -- _my dad snuck me in and let me sit in the co-pilot’s seat, said that I was his Ewok mechanic_ \-- and Ben thinks: _I would do anything to make him laugh again._

When their minds brush against each other the first time, it’s an accident. They are meditating by the water, inhaling, exhaling, and suddenly, Ben feels him like a whisper.

It’s nothing like the whispers in his dreams.

There is only another boy, and his name is Tai, and he dreams of yawning temples, shimmering kyber, and the Force. They breathe together, deepening, deeply, until Ben’s eyes snap open, and Tai’s staring back at him.

Several years later, they sit in the woods together, blending into the depths of each other.

“You’re scared,” Tai says, quietly, because he is -- he _is_ \-- because he doesn’t want this boy to know about the voices in his nightmares; the haunting, hollow dark, the tempting, taunting terror. “Ben…” 

“Sorry,” he says, his voice rough. “Sorry. I know I should focus more.” They’re trying to practice strengthening the bond, so it will be easier to communicate. Times like these, however, it feels like forcing a misshapen key into a mismatched lock. 

“It’s okay,” Tai says, and he mentally disentangles himself from Ben. “We can take a break.” 

“It’s my fault.” 

Tai shakes his head. “No. It’s a big deal, letting someone else in your head. You’re allowed to want privacy.” 

Privacy. As if Ben hasn’t grown up with this legacy hovering over him his entire life. So many things come easy for Ben -- flying, like his father; cleverness, like his mother; sheer strength in the Force, like his uncle -- and this, this, his own _head_ \--

He should be able to do whatever he wants with it. He should direct it like the blade of a lightsaber, like the barrel of a blaster. Yet his head isn’t a balanced clear-minded thing. It is swirling and troubled and shadowed, and it trembles in the face of this kind-eyed boy who Ben wants so much to give _everything_.

He sighs. He settles on Tai’s lap, and Tai lets him, drawing his hands through Ben’s hair in a butterfly flutter.

Ben had knotted a little braid this morning, an absent-minded twist of his fingers as he read through ancient Jedi texts, and now, Tai lingers over it, unmaking and remaking, and silently, softly, Ben thinks: _This is knowing. This is knowing enough._


End file.
